Uncorked
by BoredRavenvlaw620
Summary: In vino veritas. The truth is all relative, but the fun is not. What salacious tales will be revealed in this series of one-shots? Who knows? Pour yourself a glass of wine and find out. EWE. Featuring multiple characters and pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**Uncorked**

 **Chardonnay in 7A**

It took only moments, but the anticipation was great. It was a series of five quick twists and then two quick and agile wrist movements; a dance practiced time and again and perfected in the aftermath of war under the shelter of reconciliation. The satisfaction at the release was palpable and the groans of satisfaction as the spoils of this labor were sampled reverberated all around.

It was girls' night at Hermione's flat—and the wine was always good.

"Where do you find this stuff?" Ginny sighed as she took another sip of the golden Chardonnay.

"Oh, who even cares, as long as it continues to fill my glass tonight," Pansy replied already halfway through her first glass.

"No worries there," Hermione said, "Cabi has the best taste in wine and knows we need plenty to keep these little gatherings interesting."

"I still can't believe you have a house elf, Hermione," Angelina laughed.

Hermione couldn't believe it herself. But what was she to do when this precious, and most importantly _free_ elf, offered its services for a very reasonable fee. Cabi had lost her family in the war and was presented clothes by a distant relative who simply 'couldn't be bothered' to see to the welfare of some 'lesser creature.' Hermione had been outraged on Cabi's behalf, and found that Cabi was eager to accept payment for her work and especially gifted at selecting wine.

Cabi's selections had been instrumental in forging a bond between this unconventional group of witches.

It all started innocently enough. Hermione, Ginny and Luna were completing their education at Hogwarts and it was not odd for the three to sneak away to the Shrieking Shack on the occasional Friday evening.

Soon, the Patil twins joined the group, followed by Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones. The most surprising additions still to date had been the three Slytherins, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and her younger sister Astoria. Daphne and Astoria had dragged a vehemently protesting Pansy along; and after a rather lengthy and awkward silence, Pansy presented a bottle of the Parkinson Family's finest along with an apology for her past behaviors. It wasn't immediate, but soon enough, they were all tight friends and a tradition was born. Once they left Hogwarts the group expanded to include Angelina Johnson; and even the Delacour sisters would join some Fridays.

There had been marriages and births; breakups and makeups; accomplishment and failure, but most importantly there had been sisterhood and friendship; it was raucous, it was bawdy at times, but most of all it was judgment free.

…

"So…" Ginny began with a mischievous look in her eye, "Who wants to play a little game tonight?"

"Ugh," Hermione groaned, "can't we just drink and let the conversation lead us in a natural direction?"

"By which she means sex," Pansy clarified.

Snickers of laughter rose up around the group as Hermione shot a dirty look at Pansy. Pansy, however, just laughed and clinked glasses with Ginny.

Hermione huffed in defeat, "Fine, fine, present your little game, oh Depraved One."

Ginny, basking in her victory, stood ceremoniously and announced, "I propose and oldie but a goodie…Never Have I Ever."

Ginny and her theatrics; Hermione couldn't help but to smile at her still youthful enthusiasm.

Ginny continued, "You must drink if you have done the 'Never have I ever' and if details are asked, you must oblige. But as always—Witches' code; nothing leaves this apartment. Now, wands in, ladies"

The others laid their wands on the coffee table in front of them solidifying their oath of secrecy.

"Since we so conveniently have this empty bottle of wine, I'll just spin it to see who among us will go first."

Ginny flicked the green bottle with practiced ease. "Done that before, have you?" Angelina teased.

"Some of my fondest memories have occurred because of a spin of the bottle," Ginny replied with a wistful sigh.

The bottle spun for quite some time, giving the ladies a chance to sip their wine and thus lower their inhibitions even more.

Finally, it stopped spinning on Hannah Longbottom nee Abbott. She blushed as she took a fortifying sip of her wine. Clearing her throat, Hannah decided on a topic, "Never have I ever been caught out in the Library at Hogwarts…"

…

Eyes darted around the circle as confessions were made through drink.

Everyone was there this evening.

Angelina, Pansy and Ginny all drank to no one's surprise since they were the randiest women the others had ever met. Even Fleur took a tentative sip of her wine as eyes continued around the circle.

Verily their eyes landed on Hermione as she casually sipped form her glass. She closed her eyes savoring the soft nuanced vintage; the notes of apple and nectarine caressing her tongue while the rich hints of oak and vanilla lingered on her palate. As she opened her eyes, she was met with the amused gazes of the women around her. Hermione didn't have to delve deep into her brain to bring up memories of her times in the Hogwarts Library, those both academic and, let's just say more—elucidating in nature.

"Well, well, well, looks who's a naughty little bookworm," Pansy sang, "I would have thought it was against your strict know-it-all code to get busy in the Library."

"I'm not the one who initiated anything in public places," Hermione defended.

"All right, Hermione," Ginny bade, "We simply must know more. Did he pencil in some romance on your revision schedule? Oh, I know! He recited arithmantic equations until you just ripped his shirt off? Or what about—"

"Stop!" Hermione scolded. "I will tell you about it if only so you don't harbor any misinformation."

"Excellent! Now spill."

Hermione huffed, knowing she was obliged to bring forth a salacious memory, but she wasn't too troubled; after all, he had been a surprising and pleasant diversion in the aftermath of war and he continued to surprise her to this day.

…

 **Hogwarts Library 1999**

Looking back, it may have been a mistake to grant Hermione Granger unregulated library access.

She could be found in the library at almost any time of day.

Professor McGonagall was not particularly worried about this since she trusted that Hermione was beholden to the rules and regulations that governed the precious Hogwarts' collection and she knew that no other student, past or present, barring perhaps herself, had taken such care and pride with the offerings.

It was with these thoughts in mind that she sought out her favorite student and subsequently found her in the library; embroiled in a scenario that the Headmistress would have never imagined; not that she imagined her students in this way at all.

…

Hermione really was there to study. Really; she needed to brush up on The Goblin Rebellions of 1337 before her N.E.W.T.S.

She was in the history aisle of the restricted section when he found her, so her story was plausible, but as soon as he laid his hands on her hips, she knew the Goblins would have to wait.

Hermione was so turned on by his touch that she almost purred when his hands roamed beneath her oxford and added their warmth to her instantly heated skin; but she sincerely hoped that she could persuade him to move his amorous intentions to a more private and thus more comfortable locale.

"So, my little lioness," he spoke in her ear relishing the involuntary shiver that his voice elicited, "have you been keeping up with your studies?"

"You know I have. You regularly remind me of what an insufferable swot I am," Hermione replied not one to disappoint in a verbal spar, even in the heat of passion.

He chuckled huskily in her ear before playfully biting her earlobe as he started to release the buttons of her shirt to grant him better access to what lay beneath.

Hermione sighed prettily as he lightly ghosted his hands up her stomach and over her satin bra; her nipples hardening at the teasing. She knew she should try to dissuade him, but he was just so bloody convincing.

He knew in such a public arena that removing clothes entirely was inadvisable, but he couldn't deny himself access to two of the most appealing mounds of flesh he's ever had the privilege to have in his hands…or his mouth.

He kneaded her breasts gently, gradually building the heat he knew was just below the surface. She moaned quietly and pushed her delectable rear against his hips; pushing harder when she felt his anticipatory excitement.

"And just what do you have under your skirt, Miss Granger?" He asked.

"I think you know what's under there already," she scolded while turning in his arms. "Seeing as my knickers have been in your pocket since after Runes this morning."

He chuckled lightly, but couldn't contain the sexy smirk that rose unbidden at the thought of their tryst in the alcove on the fourth floor. "Well what can I say, Princess, when I see the little wrinkle you get between your eyes when you solve a particularly complicated translation I must have you immediately."

She giggled, actually giggled; this man was turning her into a swooning teenage girl. Though in all fairness she had missed her chance to be a proper swooning teenage girl in the previous seven years so she was taking back her youth. "Does my intellect cause this reaction in every circumstance, or just with ancient runes?"

"Oh, I can assure you, you stimulate me in all circumstances,"

"Well, in that case could you initiate these encounters in more comfortable settings? A room with a bed? Perhaps a couch? I'd even be willing to entertain the idea of the grassy knoll by the Black Lake," she offered.

"I'll consider some of those suggestions," he said as he closed the distance between them and finally sealed their lip together in a kiss.

Any more banter they might have exchanged was promptly silenced as their tongues became occupied in exploration of each other's mouths. Their hands were equally engaged as they explored each other over and under clothes.

Hermione loosened his tie and then freed the buttons of oxford so she could run her fingers along the ridges of his quidditch defined muscles. She pulled her hips away from his just long enough to release the button and zipper of his trousers and pull his boxer briefs down just enough to free his cock.

The loud moan that came from Hermione was unavoidable as he pulled her leg over his hip and pushed her firmly into the shelf of history books; the uncomfortable feel of the shelf in her back notwithstanding, his arousal _was_ rubbing her clit in the most satisfying way.

"Quiet, love," he chuckled darkly, "you wouldn't want us to be discovered, would you?"

His smirk grew more sinister as he took in her dilated pupils and panting breaths, "Or perhaps you want to get caught, you naughty girl, you," he teased.

She growled in wanton frustration as she nipped at his lower lip. Seeing, and feeling, that he had her precisely where he wanted her, he pulled his hips back just so and thrust forth to enter her in one swift and well-practiced motion.

Mutual groans of fulfillment emanated from their throats as they came together here in the stacks.

Hermione threw both arm around his neck and slung her other leg over his hip as he hoisted her up by her backside.

He had to do a little more work this way, but he was young and still had the strength and stamina to support this sexy witch while he thrust into her letting the miracle of gravity do the work to help her grind down against him providing her clit with that oh so delectable friction he knew she craved.

And it was there that Headmistress McGonagall found them; shirts open and bodies connected intimately as their panted breaths and sighed declarations carried from the history aisle and into the entrance of the Restricted Section.

…

In hindsight perhaps she stood there silent a bit longer than was strictly necessary, but as soon as she regained her composure she set about reprimanding the couple.

"Mr. Malfoy! Miss Granger!" Headmistress McGonagall shouted.

Hermione buried her face in Draco's chest and he immediately stilled his hips as the Headmistress's voice broke through the haze of lust surrounding them.

"I will allow the two of you a moment to right yourselves before meeting me at the library entrance," she said as she spun on her heel and walked away.

Draco set Hermione on the ground gently and set about tucking himself back in to his pants and righting his shirt buttons and tie. Hermione adjusted her bra, set her skirt to rights and began to button her blouse.

Draco could see the crimson bloom of embarrassment on Hermione cheeks; knowing that she respected the headmistress and simply grasped her trembling hands and helped her finish her buttons.

Hermione looked up at him, that sweet bottom lip between her teeth and that desperate look in her eyes. How she could be afraid of being reprimanded for some normal teenaged hijinks, he'd never know, but after everything they had been through, a reprimand for a little library hanky panky felt wonderfully normal.

Draco interlaced their fingers, placed a sweet kiss on Hermione's forehead and watched as she tentatively smiled at him.

Staying quiet, Hermione nodded quickly to indicate she was ready to face the music.

…

Minerva McGonagall was an intimidating witch in the best of circumstances, but standing at the library entrance with her arms crossed over her chest and an unamused look on her face she was positively terrifying.

Hermione looked contrite enough for the two of them, but Draco had the good sense to at least attempt a humbled expression. The execution was somewhat elusive as Malfoys weren't exactly proficient at _humble_ ; arrogant, supercilious, pompous—but never humble.

The two students stood silently in front of the Headmistress as she sighed in surrender. "I could give the two of you detention, or even write home to your parents, but seeing as the pair of you are of age—"

"It won't happen again Headmistress," Hermione offered quickly.

"Well, I'm sure that it will happen again Miss Granger, it's not the first time a student has been caught out, but I would prefer if the two of you could keep your activities private in the future."

"Yes, headmistress," they answered together.

And with a perfunctory nod of her head, Minerva McGonagall stepped aside and motioned for the couple to exit the library.

Draco reflected on the fact that being put out of the library was a worse punishment than any detention Hermione could have received.

…

Minerva McGonagall watched them walk away. She smiled as she observed Draco Malfoy, the pureblooded scion of a still formidable family, draw the petite and feisty Muggleborn closer to his side and place a sweet kiss to the top of her curly head. She saw the sweet look of adoration that Hermione bestowed upon Draco as he calmed her embarrassment.

The road to rebuilding the wizarding world was going to be a long one, this Minerva knew for certain; but she was pleased to see the first steps along the path being placed by this unlikely pair.

Though she was less introspective about reconciliation later that evening when the aforementioned pair stumbled into the Great Hall brushing leaves from their uniforms and pulling twigs from their hair.

These damnable kids were going to be the death of her sanity.

…

"So that's it." Hermione shrugged.

"Pu-leeese! Surely the two of you christened the library more than once?" Pansy scoffed.

Hermione innocently took a sip of her wine. "I didn't say it was the only time...just one time we got caught."


	2. Chapter 2

**Where there's Smoke, There's Firewhiskey**

 **Forgot the A/N on the first chapter...oops! This will be a series of randomly updated one shots that primarily feature Dramione, and will at times explore some (hopefully) fun side pairings.**

 **Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/followed/favorited when I posted the first chapter. I hope you enjoy this one!**

 **Disclaimer: I own plenty of wine and other adult libations, but not the Harry Potter franchise.**

* * *

 **Where there's Smoke, There's Firewhiskey**

"What about that time you decided to skinny dip in the Black Lake and gave that group of Slytherin second years an anatomy lesson they weren't expecting?"

"Well at least the anatomy was exceptional."

"If by exceptional you mean shrunken beyond recognition, then yes, it was indeed _exceptionally_ funny."

"It was cold in the lake," Ron grumbled knocking back his remaining firewhiskey.

Roars of laughter sounded around the table as Ron refilled his glass and Harry patted him on the back in solidarity.

"Oh! Oh! What about the time Weasley was our _Queen?"_ Blaise guffawed, wheezing for breath at the memory.

Ron was an unnatural shade of scarlet by this point and Harry, bless him for his undying loyalty, tried to intervene, "I was impressed." His resolve faltered at the next thought however, "I never could've made it fifteen blocks in those heels!" He managed to sputter out.

Ron cut his eyes to Harry, clearly not amused at the turn of conversation, "Thanks for the support mate. I expect this from them, but not you."

"Just a bit of fun reminiscing," Blaise chuckled, wiping the mirth from his eyes.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "besides, you're not the only one who's done embarrassing things in their youth. What about the time you set the eighth year common room on fire?" Harry teased Draco.

"That's right!" Ron brightened, "Hermione owned your pasty arse in that duel." He finished smugly.

The smirk on Draco's face wasn't quite the reaction Harry expected.

"Oh, she owned his arse all right!" Blaise said suggestively.

With one quirk of his eyebrows Draco sipped his firewhiskey.

"I've always known there was more to that story." Harry said suspiciously.

"Oh, you know there is!" Blaise hooted already well into his fourth drink.

Draco shrugged, "There might be."

"Weeellll…" Harry urged.

Draco tried to ignore the hodgepodge group of men seated at the table in favor of observing what any of the other pub patrons might be doing. He would never begrudge Hermione her girls' night, but honestly, Gryffindor antics were bad enough; add Blaise to the mix and they were positively insufferable.

"Come on, Malfoy, give us a story; a _bedtime_ story." Blaise leered.

Draco finished his drink, poured another, took a slow sip, and then with a sigh, began his tale.

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts, 8** **th** **Year Dormitory, 1998**_

This year was not turning out how Draco hoped.

Was he grateful to be at school instead of Azkaban? Uh…YES!

Was he pleased to have a normal class schedule devoid of Death Eater duties? Absolutely!

But he did not sign on for this special level of Hell! How anyone could be so unreasonably cruel was beyond him. This made the Dark Lord seem like a sweet little fairy princess in comparison. _Okay, so maybe that was an exaggeration._

But tutoring the first and second years in potions!? His eighth year counterparts weren't subject to such atrocities. They were all at the pub in Hogsmeade. Why, McGonagall, why? Hadn't he suffered enough? Was playing happy host to that olfactory deficient tyrant not sufficiently demoralizing? Now he was forced to suffer through the inane and inconceivable ineptitude of these children! _No wonder Snape was always on the verge of murder._

Draco was beyond frustrated. How could anyone botch a potion so badly? How hard was it _really_ to cut the daisy roots into _EQUAL_ pieces? EQUAL! The resulting explosion had come from not one, but three separate cauldrons. Had his instructions not been clear? How did these children manage to drench him in the foulest smelling sticky substance ever to be created? Even Longbottom and Finnegan had been better at potions in first year; at least their explosions were more locally contained.

He groaned; the groan of a man so completely outdone that he couldn't be bothered to use magic to clean himself before storming from the potions lab in the dungeon all the way to the eighth year dorms on the fifth floor.

Draco slammed into the, blessedly empty, common room and summarily rid his body of the foul odorous robes.

Tossing them on the floor he stalked off the kitchen cabinets and found his prize. Firewhiskey.

Was drinking the answer to all his woes? Absolutely not! The mandatory therapy was most helpful, but _bloody buggering fuck_ , after dealing with those incompetent ninnies he _needed_ a drink.

The firewhiskey burned a smooth path down his esophagus, warming his belly. Sinking down on the common room sofa, he stared into the fire, letting his body go limp and his mind go numb. Thank Merlin for the providential silence and solitude that enveloped the room.

Quiet was fleeting at the best of times; and this moment of solace was interrupted so spectacularly that Draco could only watch in awe as what appeared to be Hermione Granger slammed into the common room.

She proceeded to kick off her shoes, one flying unnervingly closer to his left ear. At first he thought to alert her of his presence, and admonish her for trying to kill him with her hideously clunky shoes, when he realized that she was currently on a transcendent plane of fury and any intrusion may actually lead to his untimely demise.

So making the choice for self-preservation (he was a Slytherin after all) Draco remained slouched on the sofa watching in bemused fascination as Hermione unleashed the maelstrom of her anger and frustration on the room at large.

Hermione was wet from head to toe. Draco could hear the squelching as she stalked toward the fire ripping the sodden robes from her body.

"Ungrateful!" The robes smacked on the hearth as Hermione muttered curses under her breath.

"Incompetent!" She peeled one stocking off and added it to the pile.

"Honestly, how difficult is it to _swish and flick? Swish aaannnnddd flick!"_

The other stocking fell to the growing mass of soaked garments.

Draco thought for a moment that he should stop her before he got a free show, but then again, Slytherin and all, a free show might just cheer him right up.

"They call me the _Brightest Witch of the Age,_ but I can't get these Godric forsaken first years to levitate that damned feather! Even Ron finally managed to levitate _something_."

At this point Draco could see that her anger was leaving her and she was becoming introspective of her plight. "Perhaps I should set a troll loose on those little shites and see if they can manage to swish and flick then?"

 _Oooookaaay…._ so maybe she was harnessing her anger for a different purpose—that was kind of hot.

"Where the bloody hell is my wand?"

Draco sat up as Hermione continued to grumble about the first years she was charged with tutoring in charms and watched enraptured as she bent to riffle through the pile of clothes for her wand.

Her smooth creamy thighs and just the very curve of her pert bum were revealed to him, but alas, it was for only a moment before she found her wand. She casually pointed the wand behind her with no notice of Draco as she spoke her incantation, "Accio firewhiskey."

The bottle flew from Draco's loose grip straight into Hermione's outstretched hand.

This injustice would simply not stand.

"I was drinking that." His tone was dry and his voice quiet.

The bottle was just at her lips as she turned slowly, eyes ablaze with anger and what Draco was sure was embarrassment at being caught in a rant.

The look on her face shifted quickly as she quirked an eyebrow in his direction and took an unrepentant gulf from the bottle. "Come and get it, Malfoy."

She was still soaked through, her hair slicked flat against her head and over her shoulders; her white oxford clung to her torso revealing her flat stomach and the lace bra beneath. Draco wondered if she was aware, but he postulated she must be oblivious in her anger.

He rose slowly from the sofa, his eyes never leaving Hermione's, the challenge silently accepted as he prowled toward her.

Draco's steps were deliberate, meant to intimidate and unbalance, he knew Granger was usually unflappable, especially in her anger, but after his evening with the first years he needed a rousing spar with, he could admit it, an equal.

Kicking the pile of clothes out of his way he pushed into Hermione's personal space. Her brown eyes flecked with amber and blazing with challenge beckoned him. The quick breaths in and out through her freckled button nose caused her breasts to brush against his chest with each inhalation. Draco wrenched the bottle from her hand and took a drawn out swallow.

"Aaaahhhhh." He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

He turned to walk back to the couch when she grasped his tie keeping him in front of her and drawing him closer to her face. Her skin was dewy from the moisture covering her; the small droplets reflecting the firelight. "Give. Me. That. Firewhiskey."

She attempted to replicate his move to take back the bottle, but his grip was firmer than hers and he retained possession. "Make. Me."

Her reaction was unexpected at best, deranged at worst—she laughed.

Not a delicate giggle, but hearty guffaws of laughter; the kind of amusement born from sheer absurdity and unable to be stopped or controlled. Hermione grasped her sides as she fell to the floor; raucous peals of hilarity emanating from her petite form. She gasped trying to form words, "What did they do to you Malfoy!?"

His anger at having his firewhiskey taken and her subsequent challenge was completely gone, replaced by utter confusion.

Hermione continued to laugh and was pointing as Draco, wheezing and gasping as she tried to speak, "Your," gasp, "covered," sharp intake of breath, "in hot pink! Ahahahahahahahah! What did they do to you in the dungeons!?"

Draco had been so outdone with the first years he'd failed to notice the glaringly pink goo covering his hair. He gingerly put his hand to his head and pulled it away bringing with it a long sticky string of neon pink slime.

He couldn't take another moment; this was getting ridiculous; he swigged from the bottle and fell to the floor beside Granger, his laughter bubbling up and erupting at a volume to match hers.

They passed the bottle back and forth, fading laughter passing between them as the alcohol coursed through their bodies, relaxing them and melting away the previous frustrations.

When the bottle was empty they lay on the floor before the fire both silent for a few long moments.

Hermione turned her head toward Draco to find him already looking at her. "So what happened to you?"

"Three different first years exploded theirs cauldrons during tutoring. What about you?"

"Let's just say that working on Wingardium Leviosa and Aguamenti during the same session was a fool's errand."

They returned to the silence for a moment.

"Why didn't you Tergeo the water off your clothes?"

"Why didn't you Evanesco the potion from your head?" Hermione shot back.

"Touché, but I guess I was so frustrated by that point I just wanted to be away from those little nincompoops and drown my aggravation in alcohol."

She considered him for a moment and hummed in agreement. Sitting up she felt around for her wand. Draco watched her in fascination; she clearly had a plan and he was curious to see what would happen next.

"Aqua Eructo!"

A jet of water shot from the end of Hermione's wand drenching Draco.

"What the fuck, woman!?"

Hermione smiled smugly at Draco, "The slime's gone now." She said with an overly-exaggerated innocence.

This meant war. He drew his wand from his pocket and conjured a powerful twister around Hermione.

She squealed in protest as her voluminous hair whipped around her face and her skirt flew outward.

"Now you're dry."

Smug bastard, she'd show him.

They exchanged spells for several vigorous minutes; nothing dark, all benign. But their hijinks were leaving the common room in shambles; papers everywhere, the pile of discarded clothes scattered.

Hermione went in for the proverbial kill; she raised her wand true and spoke, "Alopeciatis!"

Draco's eyes went wide as saucers as he ducked with unnatural speed, the balding spell barely missing his glorious platinum hair.

"You're going to regret that." He growled.

Hermione realized her mistake too late as Draco jerked the wand from her hand and threw it toward the table with his. He lunged forward and dug his fingers into her ribs.

Victory! She was incapacitated and breathless with laughter, but she was a valiant warrior and fought back with fervor.

Twisting just so, Hermione was able to get her small bony fingers under Draco arms and returned the assault. _Who knew Draco Malfoy, Scary-Boy-Death Eater could be subdued by tickles!_

Emboldened by his reaction, Hermione continued the onslaught until they collapsed in a heap on the floor; Hermione straddling his hips.

They were no longer tickling each other, their breaths coming out in pants, ridiculous smiles on their faces, "I needed that." Hermione giggled.

In answer, Draco grasped her hips and flipped them over, putting his body over the petite witch's. He looked at her for a short moment, taking in her flush cheeks, her widely dilated pupils, the shy uncertain smile gracing her full lips.

He leaned down and placed a tentative kiss on her mouth. He felt her press her lips to his in response and pulled back to gage her reaction.

The sinful smile she gave him was all the permission he needed to continue; well, that and the fact that she forcefully pulled his head back to hers nipping and licking at his lips.

Hands roamed. Mouths roamed. Remaining layers were shed hastily, no mind paid to where they landed.

Draco had one hand on Hermione's breast as the other reached between her legs to find her wet, and not from the mishap in tutoring.

Hermione was sucking as the sensitive skin of Draco's neck as she grasped his firm buttocks pulling him closer to where she wanted his friction.

Draco loved this. She was incredibly vocal with her praise and Draco found he was really into that kind of validation from his partner. It spurred him on as he dipped his long fingers inside her and sought out that special place that he hoped would bring her to her breaking point.

Hermione snaked her hand around between them, grasping Draco's length and began to pump with alacrity.

She was wrong before, _this_ was what she needed.

Their bodies warmed under the other's caress, beads of sweat formed on their foreheads and backs, it was thrilling, it was intense, and it was _hot._

Hermione had never felt this kind of heat during sex. Sure she got hot and sweaty, but this was almost uncomfortable. "It's so hot, Draco."

"You know it is, baby," He answered traveling down her chest to lave her breasts with his tongue as his fingers worked fervently between her legs.

She stretched her neck to take a breath of fresh air and hopefully find some relief from the sweltering heat when her nostrils were met with the pungent smell of smoke. That was definitely not normal.

She turned her head toward the fireplace and her hands and body stilled; the heat of her passions suitably extinguished.

Draco, oblivious to her alarm, continued to explore Hermione's body.

"Draco."

"Mmmmm, Hermione."

Sharper this time, "Draco!"

That got his attention; plus the fact that she was squirming under him and pushing his shoulders to get free of his body.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked as she watched her search frantically for something.

"The room is on fire, you idiot!"

Draco snapped his head toward the fireplace to see that their collective pile of clothes had caught alight and subsequently set flame to some scattered papers which had traveled toward the wall to ignite a tapestry.

They were fucked.

He quickly realized she was looking for her wand and set about assisting with the task.

They found them in short order, but when the room around you is going up in flames seconds feel like hours.

Simultaneously they shouted, "Agua Eructo!" directing the streams of water at the flames.

It didn't take long and soon the fire was out, but there they stood, naked and covered in soot.

Draco approached Hermione with a little smirk, trying not to laugh at the crazy turn of events that evening had taken. Hermione was less successful with suppressing her laughter and was giggling at Draco's disheveled blackened appearance.

"How about a shower? We can get clean and then get dirty all over again." He asked as he brushed the wild curls off Hermione's face.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the cheesy line, but stood on her toes for a moment to connect their lips; then turned grasped his hand and dragged him into her room. The door was shut and silenced mere seconds before the remaining eighth years stumbled in from their night at the pub.

They stopped short as they took in the common room. The rug in front of the hearth was charred to a crisp. The scorched remains of so many parchments were scattered about the room and the Hogwarts tapestry was burned halfway up with the evidence of flames licking the stone ceiling above as the burnt remnants dripped making a puddle below. The smell of smoke as well as an undulating haze hung heavy in the air.

"What in Merlin's name happen here?" Ron asked to no one in general.

"Looks like a duel." Ginny giggled quite inebriated from the pub.

Ron was not impressed.

Harry pushed forward finally being able to see the ruins of their common room.

"Do you think anyone got hurt?"

Blaise was wandering the wreckage when he saw it. He bent down to pick it up and pocketed the scrap of lacy fabric. "Nah, I think however this happened, everyone is _juuust_ fine." He flicked his wand to clear the smoke and wandered off to bed.

* * *

Draco reluctantly pulled himself from Hermione's bed the next morning. After being roused by the soft light filtering in through the curtains he watched her sleep in his arms for longer than he cared to admit; her face soft and serene surrounded by a halo of messy curls, the gentle rise and fall of her breath, the way she burrowed closer to his warmth; she was beautiful and he hoped this wasn't just a one-off.

A couple of transfigured pieces of clothing later, he turned the knob on her door, stepped out, and gently pulled it closed seeking to make as little noise as possible.

He glanced around the common room. It was a mess.

As he raised his wand to begin putting things to rights he was interrupted by sound of a clearing throat. Turning slowly toward the sound, Draco found Blaise lounging at the kitchen table with a hot cup of tea and eyes full of humor.

"Good morning, Blaise." It was hesitant

Blaise's smile grew exponentially, "Good morning, Draco."

"You're up early."

"As are you." Blaise sipped his tea, looking very smug at the observation.

"Don't mind me. I'm just going to put this room back in order. No harm no foul." Draco rushed, turning around to get the process of clearing the fire damage over and done and be away from Blaise's gleeful scrutiny.

Blaise watched Draco quietly. He swished and flicked and flicked and swished and soon no evidence of the fire existed.

Feeling relieved and freshly exhausted, Draco made to return to bed, Hermione's bed, not fully considering the fact that Blaise was watching his every move.

Just as Draco reached the door, Blaise materialized at his side, a scrap of fabric hanging from his index finger. "She might want these back, they were only lightly scorched."

Draco was frozen; hand on Hermione's doorknob, watching in horror as Blaise triumphantly swung Hermione's knickers inches from Draco's nose.

His hesitation cost him, before he could reach out and take them back the door open to reveal Hermione, covered in a dressing gown, an unabashed and slightly mischievous look on her face. Reaching out, she neatly plucked her knickers from Blaise's finger with one hand, pulled Draco into the room with the other, shot Blaise a saucy wink and kicked the door shut.

This year was really looking up.

* * *

"Wait! Wait! Wait! You mean to tell me that fire started because the two of you were fooling around!" Ron cried.

Harry sighed, his best mate was a great guy, but slow on the uptake sometimes.

"Of course they were fooling around!" Blaise laughed, "I'm surprised it took them that long to get at each other."

Draco just sipped his firewhiskey looking smug. He had a right to look smug; he was the wizard who got to go home to Hermione Granger.

* * *

 **I would love to hear what you think! Reviews are awesome! Also, weigh on what side pairings you'd like to see. Thanks for reading! See you next time!**


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